


My First* Destiel

by GeekishChic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dammit Tumblr, Destiel - Freeform, Rated For Language Mostly, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3730210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekishChic/pseuds/GeekishChic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by this Tumblr post: </p><p>http://habitatfordeanwinchester.tumblr.com/post/115369195922/bettydays-thewinchestercave-dont-smirk-at-us</p>
            </blockquote>





	My First* Destiel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenwolf36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenwolf36/gifts), [habitatfordeanwinchester (MustBeKismet)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=habitatfordeanwinchester+%28MustBeKismet%29), [betts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betts/gifts).



> *Not actually my first, just the first to get published. My actual first one isn't finished yet and I know I need to reexamine my life choices. So I hope this serves as something of a consolation until the other one is done.
> 
> Rating may get bumped up if I decide to add a smut chapter. Lemmie know if I should attempt it. <3 <3

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Oh,  _God_  you actually  _believe_  in all this crap?" Gabriel sifted through the religious detritus, books, charts, and articles that seemed to fill every nook and cranny of the room. Yes, he was keeping up his front, the fact that he knew most of it was conjecture and hearsay, that all of it was a hundred different aspects born of one energy, multiplied by the facets of Human Beings. It was glorious. And sad. Because his Father...

 

"Put that down!" Charlie snatched a photocopy of a grimoire out of his hand and placed it down on her cluttered desk with much more care than her cocky, loudmouthed friend. "And you'd be crazy  _not_  to believe in something. I mean science can only explain but so much. " She ran a slightly irritated hand through the naturally fiery pixie cut she was still getting used to. "Supernatural," she continued excitedly, "doesn't necessarily mean synthetic. It means  _beyond_  natural. Natural plus. Uber natural, you know? Beyond what we can fully grasp at our present point in humanity."  _That's the Dad's honest truth_ , Gabriel thought, fiddling with a knick-knack and running a hand through shaggy golden hair before throwing himself backward on her bed, the only semi-cleared area in the place. 

 

"It's crap."

 

" _You're_  crap," she shot back without missing a beat as she clicked away on the keys of her tricked out desktop. He tossed a decorative pillow in the exact likeness of a Hobbit hole portal at her head. " _Not the Hobbit hole pillow!_ " she nearly shrieked, bringing it to an ancient rocking chair by the window and propping it reverently on the seat.

 

"Sorry!" he said sincerely. To the outside eye, she would seem way too attached to it. But Gabriel knew from years of feeling compelled to stick around after coming when she prayed for a message from individual deities regarding her mother's persistent vegetative state, that The Hobbit was something her and her mother used to share. She gazed at it a moment, then rushed over to roughly shove him off the side of the bed.

 

"Jerk!"

 

"Bitch!" he called from the floor.  

 

"What do you think?" Came the gravelly voice from the bathroom door, where stood a fresh-faced dark-haired boy, just under six feet, with cornflower eyes and a dimple in his chin. Gabriel sat upright and Charlie turned toward it with an amused smirk.

 

"Um...," Charlie speculated, crossing her arms, "This won't exactly be a business-chic type of environment," she said of the black suit and fitted blue tie. "And what's with the trench coat?" He looked down at himself and back up at her, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head a fraction in an expression not unlike a confused puppy.

 

"It will rain."

 

"It's been clear all day. And you cut off all your hair and shaved!" she exclaimed, regret seeping from her words. "You had a sort of dreamy boy-band look going on." Gabriel put a finger up to pause Castiel's retort and stared at his friend, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline in shock. "What? I'm gay, not blind." Gabriel shrugged and lowered his finger. As if he actually had depressed the pause button, the other boy spoke.

 

"But you just cut off all of your hair," came the quiet protest causing her to comb self-consciously through her own shorn locks.

 

"Cas!" Gabriel broke in, "It'll be fine. It was a long trip, you got a little rugged and that was a good look for you, but it'll be fine. Look, I knew you'd probably do something dorktastic, so I brought along an alternative ensemble." He tossed the bulging plastic shopping bag to Castiel, who looked at it a moment before turning to go back in and change again. 

 

"Door!" Gabriel and Charlie reminded him in unison and Charlie waited for it to shut before turning to her friend. 

 

"Gabe, are you sure you're related? I mean, no offense but you share zero features. At first I thought around the jawline, but then he shaved and his is way more pronounced."

 

"Um, thanks?"

 

"And you're weird, but in a decidedly good way. Cas's weirdness has yet to be determined." 

 

"We have the same father," he said, with absolute truth. She nodded in understanding.

 

"He acts like he doesn't get out much."

 

"Acts like," Gabriel repeated, hauling himself to his feet in order to examine his own vessel's jawline and finding nothing wrong with it. Though, he did have to admit that the slight stubble and soul patch he maintained did improve its definition.

 

"I mean you can drink anyone under the table and not even flinch, but he looks like such a lightweight." Castiel re-emerged in fitted jeans, with a white crew neck and a deep blue polo layered on top of it. A line the colour of spicy brown mustard ran horizontally across the chest and all the buttons were done up. He slightly held out his hands at his sides in presentation. "They're going to eat him alive," she sighed, approaching him to undo the buttons and artfully muss what little hair he had left. As much of a party animal as Gabriel was, it was Castiel that was the rebel without a clue when it came to the Human race, always breaking rank, taking alternate routes. He had no idea what Castiel was doing there in the first place other than the same reason he was. A compulsion.

 

"It'll have to do," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes and preparing for the inevitable downpour he attempted to seem nonchalant about in order to keep his  _Yeah, I'm totally a Human like you_  disguise in tact. Charlie pulled a denim jacket over her maroon boat-necked top and, as they trudged the two miles to good 'ol Heaven's bar and grill, the first few splatters of rain began. Charlie slipped a compact black umbrella from an inner jacket pocket. It opened to reveal cat ears perched atop the dome as well as appropriately themed eyes glaring from beneath them. She only allowed the one who'd correctly predicted the weather to share it with her, so by the time they reached the front porch of the establishment, Gabriel's white tee shirt was soaked through and sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He shook the driving rain out of his hair like a dog, aiming to distribute the cool wet evenly amongst his friends, over which he received a solid punch in the arm before they entered. "This," Gabriel announced holding his hands out, "is my bar! There are many others like it, but this one is mine!"

 

"God, shut  _up_ , Gabe." Charlie pushed passed him on the way to the bar to greet her favourite bartender. 

 

"Charlie Middlebury!" The smoky voice belonged to Diana, who smiled a slow smile, flipping back long chocolate waves in order to lean across the bar toward her friend. "How the hell are ya?"

 

"Hey, Diana," Charlie replied, unable to help smiling back.

 

"Digging the new 'do." Charlie reached up to touch the back nervously.

 

"Yeah. Thanks."

 

"So what's my Goddess factoid of the week? What besides the hunt does she represent?" Charlie had been coming in there semi-regularly, giving her tiny pieces of her learning, especially of her namesake, in order to always have something to say to her.

 

"Virginity!" The word burst from her, just before she turned nearly as red as her hair. Diana only laughed and pressed her tongue to her the front of her top teeth for a last look at Charlie before turning deep, dark eyes to Gabriel and the fresh fish trailing behind him who seemed to be in awe.

 

"Diana!" Gabriel cried out. "When're you going to stop fooling around with girls and get yourself a piece of this real man?" With these pieces of information also came new ways of rejection. Charlie tossed her a reassuring look, as they all took seats with Castiel in the middle.

 

"When my moon aspect rises in the West and sets in the East."

 

"What's that clear-ish green drink with the bubbles called?" Charlie speculated with an exaggeratedly thoughtful squint.

 

"Absinthe," Gabriel answered.

 

"No... No it's, like, uh... Aloe Vera? Yeah, it's Aloe Vera because Gabe's going to need one for that sick burn."

 

"Oh yeah," Diana grinned in agreement. "Maybe two."

 

Gabriel made a show of patting his pockets, reaching into two of them to bring out the pair of birds he'd been looking for to show the giggling women, which only served to make them laugh harder.

 

Castiel did the equivalent of tuning out the disaster that was Gabriel getting shut down by  _yet another_  lesbian woman (they seemed surprisingly progressive around here for a rural farming town), and turned on his stool to further take in the place with his human eyes. It took less than a millisecond for his angelic form to assess no real threat within a hundred mile radius. It was like any other place he'd been like it; sawdust on the floors, tables stopped from wobbling with wads of napkins, extra furniture in the store room alongside the liquor. It was dotted with those that had it rough in life, but continued to work hard despite their tragedies and setbacks. 

 

Gabriel and the others were almost always getting after him about his tendency to get over attached. The Humans themselves never saw it that way, but the fact that he would even tell them anything that wasn't strictly need to know was apparently cause for concern in Heaven. Like stating to his little sister Claire that he was not her brother anymore, which he wasn't after the Angel had been accepted into the boy's human body, preceding the local papers reporting his vessel 'having run away from home'. The air in this area was a bit different, however, a slightly rearranged make up that had him actually sniffing it. It was marginally out of place and so could have been the key to what had driven him to come here.

 

Then he saw him.

 

He was drinking alone at a corner table, eyes flashing emerald and peridot and amber even from across the room, brought out by a jacket that was barely more than a thick shirt of deeper green. It was the same texture as his eyes, however, rough around the edges despite its youth, as was his prominent jawline, covered in hairs that varied in colour from burnt sienna to oak. That on his head included the same flavours except included a little dab of sweet, dark honey and brilliant gold. It was cut as short as his own, but there was nothing 'dorktastic' about it. This boy was the exact opposite of the word, eyeing the pool tables as some rather rowdy local boys placed drunken bets and executed rather athletic moves in their attempts to win them. His brother's voice broke through his thoughts.

 

_Don't let on you know it's a Winchester_ ," the Gabriel in his head warned. He and Charlie had turned to see what Castiel was looking at.  _We don't know why he's here._  He was an heir to the famed legacy. The Winchesters were essentially the royal family of Hunters. There was so much this young man had the potential to be, but it seemed, in this backwoods bar, that he had little idea of how important he was, how prominent he was to become.

 

"Hey Diana, who's that boy?" Charlie asked her as she set up four shots of mid-shelf whiskey with a practiced hand.

 

"Aw, I thought you only had eyes for me," she teased. Charlie flicked her eyes to a Castiel, very engaged in gazing upon the face of the rather rugged subject sitting in the corner. "Oh, I see... Well, the gorgeous ones always are," she sighed in disappointment. That got Castiel's momentary attention, having him turn back to face the bar. "Though I only have suspicions about Dean Winchester. Working way out in the boonies for so long's made my Gaydar go a little wonky. Drives a sweet sixty-seven Impala. He's some sort of big game hunter or something. I don't doubt it, with those shoulders."

 

"I thought you liked women," Castiel pondered, recalling 'those shoulders' even as he looked at Diana.

 

"I like both," she shrugged. 

 

Charlie piped up again, "So, do you think Dean Winchester... likes both?" Castiel was now paying closer attention to the wise bartender.

 

"Well he sure as hell eyes _my_ ass every chance he gets, but, like I said, I detect something..." At that moment, however, Charlie caught him deliberately sizing up the behind of one of the pool players. She looked over at Gabriel behind Castiel's head with a slight nod. 

 

"Welp," said Gabriel, "before we go occupy that other pool table, how about some liquid courage?" The remaining friends spun back to face the counter and took up their glasses. "To my little brother Cas on his twenty-first birthday... may his chest hair..."

 

The rest of the toast was lost to his vessel's ears as Castiel glanced back toward Dean Winchester to find him looking back. On its way to shapely, pink lips, Dean tipped his glass a tiny bit toward him in a small toast. With a slight nod and wide eyes, Castiel acknowledged it and all took their shots. 

 

_I'd tell you to pretend it burned but you're a shitty liar_ , Gabriel sounded off in his head. Castiel glared at him and the trickster just grinned back. Charlie had Diana pour five this time and put four of them on a round tray to be carted over to the tables by Gabriel's rather fawn-eyed little brother. Gabriel was the first to speak as Charlie set the table up and Castiel just sort of stood there, unaware he wasn't blinking.

 

"Going to need someone to take a shot and a spot in our group. You up for a game, there, Hoss?"

 

Castiel turned to Charlie. "I thought his name was D-"

 

"Shut up, Cas. Let Gabe do his thing. He's hooking you up." He turned back to the two, drinks hardly moving in their containers despite his swiftness, no less confused. 

 

He didn't question the reason his vessel took him in. He knew he was wanted and that was good enough. And he didn't want to complain but this one was extremely... young. Granted, it had died down a bit since he first inhabited a pious, sixteen year-old Jimmy Novak, but the hormonal surges were, if he was honest, the closest thing to Hell on Earth he'd experienced in a long time. In those early days, he could barely breathe for the tangle of confusion his vessel would tie itself up in. The morning erections usually just went away, but the ones throughout the day, or around Meg Masters... He felt the kid's embarrassment even through his grace.

 

"Yeah, I'm game," came the rather gruff voice that sounded exactly how he looked, which was what he expected. Gabriel introduced himself, Charlie, then finally Castiel, as of course 'Cas'. The way Dean repeated it, boldly, passionately, a hint of playfulness... Castiel was bumped back to the moment by the spark of energy transferred between his hand and Dean's when they grasped each other's.

 

"Let's get this party started!" Gabriel declared. "Cas," he murmured, elbowing his younger sibling. 

 

"Oh! Yes." Castiel lamely offered up the tray and Dean passed them out, lifting all four by pinching their rims together with deft, calloused fingers." With another short, vulgar toast, they downed their second drink.

 

It burned.

 

It burned and made his eyes water. He coughed and choked and nearly panicked, wondering what was happening. Gabriel was pounding him on the back, staring, Charlie was asking if he was alright, Dean looked extremely amused, and Castiel wasn't just red from the lack of oxygen.

 

_What the fuck, Castiel?_

_I have no idea. Suddenly I could taste it. As a human would._

_Spell?_

_No. I don't know what it is. And stop swearing in my mind._

"Went down the wrong pipe there, Cas? Because you took that first one like a champ." Dean's words made him snap upright and stop coughing almost immediately. Dean handed him a partially full beer and waved at Diana for four more. Castiel lifted the bottle to his lips, tasting hops from a farm two towns over, water from a spring to the North, malt from East Texas. There were several other flavours and he could identify the location from whence they came down to the individual plant or atom if he wanted to. He didn't, however. He wanted to savour every word that came out of the anomaly that was Dean's mouth. Dean's everything, really.

 

"I... I'm fine," he said, and though he was of course telling the truth, this was one of those times when it was a truth that was even more true than other truths. Because Dean Winchester had put a large, strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed roughly.

 

"Good man. Birthday boy's on my team! Let's do this. Ladies first," he said with a cocky grin and sip of his fresh beer that earned him a playful glare from Gabriel and a snort of laughter from Charlie. He gave Castiel's shoulder two firm pats then crossed his arms, removing the strange warmth of his hand.

 

"Why don't we flip a coin to see who goes first," suggested Charlie, obviously having other ideas when she looked over at Gabriel. "That way it's more fair." Castiel continued to watch her with confusion. He looked at his brother who was no help because he was just agreeing with her. He then tried Dean who jerked his face away so suddenly, Castiel thought something might have been wrong.

 

"Dean?" was all he needed to say to ask if all was well. Dean glanced quickly back at him, then settled his remarkable eyes back on Charlie and Gabriel.

 

"Sounds good."

 

"Great! Call it in the air." She tossed the quarter upward, snatching it out of the air and slapped it onto the back of the loose fist of her other hand. 

 

"Heads!" Dean declared. She hardly moved the covering hand before she announced that it was, in fact, 'heads'. "Awesome. You seem to be my good luck charm, Cas. You want to break?" he asked, chalking his cue for all he was worth. Again, Castiel looked back to his supposed friends for support, but they behaved as if they were deep in conversation and not even paying him any attention. Fortunately, Dean took the lead, striding around to where the only blank ball had been placed covering a golden dot on the verdant baize. "You ever play before?" he asked, bending to line up his shot, concentrating on what was in front of him.

 

"No. But you look like you have very good form." He heard Gabriel smack his forehead behind him, but found he couldn't turn to give him another questioning look. Because Dean blinked, then looked up at him through endless lashes of a hundred different hues from his bent position and favoured him with a slow half-smirk that nearly stopped Castiel's heart before getting back to the task at hand. It definitely stopped his breathing, as he counted the freckles across his nose, the lines in his forehead, the degree of curvature his lips obtained when smiling that particular smile verses the two other smiles in fourteen different stages Castiel had seen so far. 

 

He felt Dean's eyes on him as observed the table, the different possibilities. "Wanna take this one?" Dean asked, bringing his attention back where Castiel felt it belonged in the first place. Castiel flicked his eyes to Charlie and Gabriel's encouraging expressions.

 

"Alright." He took up his new beer and sipped from it, looked curiously at it, then sipped again. The molecules were all he tasted and it surprised him into making a face.

 

"What's up, Cas? Something wrong with the beer?" Dean gently took it from him and tasted it before shrugging. " Tastes fine to me. Charlie and Gabriel exchanged looks for the tenth time that night. Castiel took a last sip and there they were again, the flavours, the nuances. This malt came from a different town, the water from a different part of the same spring. Castiel imitated the nonchalant shrug.

 

"I suppose not." He wouldn't exactly call it wrong. Just... odd. But now he had to figure out how to get the ones, each with a different colour stripe, into the holes. He must have been standing there a long time as he'd already figured out hundreds of shots he could make and was working on gathering his mind back from wandering all over Dean's form, because suddenly, Dean was there, handing him the cue and steering him by the shoulders from behind to what he surmised was the best angle from which to take the shot. He didn't exactly press up against his backside, but Dean was so close, he could feel his body heat as he guided him forward to bend over the table and his hands into position along the smooth finished wood of the cue. His voice in Castiel's ear was barely a murmur and sent chills all through his frame.

 

"Remember, save that eight ball for last and try not to get the cue ball in the pocket." Castiel found he could only nod his understanding. Then Dean's heat was gone and he moved the stick a micrometer to the left before taking the shot. All of the striped balls went in, leaving the eight, the rest of the solids, and the cue. After receiving a brief explanation of what a high-five was, Castiel shared one with Dean following a cheer that warmed him. "That was  _amazing_! How did you  _do_  that?"

 

"Just... mathematics." That was the easiest response. As they took victory sips of their beers, a tiny disturbance caused the cue ball to roll in at the last minute. Castiel frowned at his brother. Being that neither of the opposing team was anywhere near it, Dean didn't have any reason to think they cheated.

 

"Aw! Tough luck, you guys. Welp! Nothing left but for me to-" Gabriel was abruptly yanked back by the back of his shirt. He  _had_  to stop underestimating this chick's strength. He spun to face her, unable to tell if he did it on his own or if it was sheer force of will on her part. Her verduous eyes blazing.

 

"If you fuck this up for Cas," she whispered harshly, giving him a hard pinch to the arm away from the other two, "I swear on all that is holy, you will be leaving one of  _your_  balls on this pool table. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"

 

"Yeah! I get it! Half-brothering Jesus,  _alright_! Ow!" She continued to hold his eyes as he rubbed the sore spot. He was going to have to let the bruise heal naturally for a couple of days because she would be expecting to see it.

 

"'Half-brothering Jesus? You are so. weird."

 

"That's why you keep me around," he murmured back, then turned to the others. "Alrighty. Just discussing tactics. Charlie, would you do the honors?" Charlie managed to get two in before botching another shot. It was a pretty difficult one, so giving it half an effort was enough to make sure it didn't look thrown. Castiel, with a little help from Dean that he obviously didn't need, easily sank the winning ball and Gabriel bought the next round of shots. Charlie handled the tip in a manner that was nearly what the drinks had cost. Gabriel did a small experiment where he had Dean pass out the shots. He gripped the glasses the same way, fingertips lightly touching the liquid inside. Castiel was expecting it this time, and wasn't disappointed by the now milder warming sensation. Dean went over to the bar, presumably to settle his tab and, on his way back, Charlie gripped Castiel's arm and leaned up to his ear.

 

"Ask him to see his car," she commanded quickly through a smile already in place that said that of  _course_  she wasn't talking about Dean as he approached.

 

"Well I should probably be heading back. Good meeting you, Charlie, Gabe..." He shook each hand respectively. Charlie subtly elbowed the last one to receive a good-bye.

 

"Oh! Right. I hear you have a... sweet sixty-seven Impala."

 

"Oh yeah! Come on, she's out back." Charlie practically snatched the unfinished beer out of Castiel's hand and nudged him gently after Dean. "She's got a V eight, three twenty-seven four-barrel carburetor engine," Dean rattled off proudly as their shoes crunched in the gravel surrounding the place. He was parked where the only other vehicle anywhere nearby was a beat up old Chevy pick-up in a motley of colours, presumably Diana's, sitting by the door beneath the only light. Dean's was across the way from it, gleaming in the cool light of the not quite full moon as it played peek-a-boo using the passing clouds. "You like cars?"

 

"Uh. Sweet ones." Gabriel was right. He was a sh- bad liar.

 

"You don't know anything about cars, do you?"

 

"No," he answered truthfully, almost distracted by the moonlight in Dean's hair as they walked around to the driver's side and Dean reached in through the open window to click on the radio. A man named Randolph Charles Bachman stuttered about 'ain't seen nuthin' yet. With his satisfied little smile, Dean leaned back against the door, a gentle toss of his head inviting Castiel to do the same. They looked out over a pond, gleaming here and there as the water rippled or a small animal moved about in it. The frogs sang their thanks for the rain and fish hunted the insects that dared come too close to their domain. With the smallest of Will, Castiel kept Dean, himself, and the car within a small bug-free force field.

 

"Usually the mosquitoes are eating my lunch," Dean pondered, pushing his hands into the pockets of some comfortably fitting jeans. "But I've had worse take a bite out of me. Hell, sometimes I even enjoyed it." Castiel wasn't sure what it was about that particular grin Dean displayed when he was kidding that made his belly feel as if large ball bearings were sliding gently around in it. He put a hand over it, doing another quick check to make sure there was no supernatural element to his discomfort. The strange thing was, it wasn't discomfort in a bad way. None of it made much sense. He found, however, that when Dean was talking, it didn't matter.

 

"Perhaps it's my... cologne," he attempted to joke.

 

"You wearing any?"

 

"No."

 

"So you just... naturally smell that way?"

 

"What way?"

 

"Like..." But Dean never finished, just shook his head a bit with a peculiar smile. "So is Cas short for something?"

 

"Castiel. My, uh, Father gave it to me." 

 

"Sounds like some sort of angel name."

 

"He had, what you would call, a 'thing' for Angelic names. My brother is Gabriel."

 

"That's too bad," he said to the water. "Angels tend to be dicks in my experience." At Castiel's rather stricken expression, he smirked again and explained. "They just seem to have this, high and mighty attitude, you know? No pun intended. They tend to mess with your head all the time. That's why it's easier to get along with demons. They may trick you into doing stuff but at least they're doing it on purpose. Angels don't even realize they're screwing your life up, because all that matters is the Mission From God or whatever. Not... I mean, in theory, and all."

 

"Of course. In theory." Right. He was playing normal as well, and doing a much better job than Castiel was.

 

"I suppose anyone can be a... dick."

 

"True." Castiel felt something akin to panic at his next thought.

 

"Do I seem like... like a dick to you?" They locked eyes in the lunar glow.

 

"Not even a little." Another eternity passed in a moment and Dean tore his eyes away, putting them back on the water. "You actually act like the baby of the family."

 

"The baby?"

 

"Yeah. Sort of sheltered and... I don't know... innocent." The way Dean smiled when he said 'innocent' was anything but.

 

"I'm not a baby," Castiel blurted.

 

"Nope. That you are definitely not." Another one of those eternal moments later, Dean continued, "Just seems you're the one everyone seems to protect, you know? Come together to help out."

 

"I do my share of protecting." Dean's little huff of laughter was slightly disbelieving. That was good for the facade. He was getting too close to the mark as it was.

 

"How many brothers you got?"

 

"I have many brothers and sisters."

 

"'Ol Dad got around, ay?" Dean nudged him with his left elbow."

 

"You could say that." They shared a genuine laugh in the face of all this subterfuge and Castiel felt compelled to reach out again and again for more strands of this truth, this strange connection. "How many siblings do you have?"

 

"Only got the one brother... that I know of." Another of those shared chuckles and it felt charged. "No we traveled a lot and dad didn't seem real interested in... more kids."

 

"It must have been rough."

 

"Pretty rough." Deans sigh was forlorn, his eyes farther away than the other side of the pond, the state. He seemed to snap back to his current location in a flash. "But he taught us to survive. Made sure we were taken care of. It's just... hard to save somebody from themselves, you know?" He toed where the gravel and dirt met the grass of the bank with a sturdy boot, as if there were answers hidden there somewhere. Then his face brightened once more, though the darkness still lingered just behind his eyes. Castiel pushed upright from his leaning position, taking the few steps in order to turn and face Dean, unsure of what to do to offer him comfort. "But we're still here, knock on wood." Of course, that confused him once more.

 

"That doesn't do anything."

 

"What doesn't?"

 

"Knocking on wood. I supposed it can be a prayer of thanks of sorts and some species of it are good as a deterrent against-"

 

And Castiel could speak no more, because Dean's mouth was pressed to his for a succession of three kisses that tasted of beer and whiskey and a hotdog from a Gas N Sip one hundred and twenty miles away. When it unfortunately ended, Dean looked as if he was about to apologise, but he must have seen how very welcome he was to that and just about anything else he may have wanted from Castiel, because he just grinned a little and called him weird.

 

Castiel tried and failed at not smiling back and initiated a kiss himself. He was unsure and rather fumbling, but Dean's hands on his face settled him, his tongue led the dance as he urged him as close as possible, anchoring himself against the car. Those hardworking hands smoothed their way into other positions, the right around to the base of Castiel's skull. The left went down his chest and around his back to trail his fingers back and forth across his shoulder blades, the base of his wings, if they could be seen, causing him to be glad he was being held so tightly, because his knees buckled and he moaned wantonly into Dean's mouth. His only redemption was Dean's answering groan and feeling himself being pulled in even more tightly.

 

Their lips parted with both of them slightly panting.Their breath was so hot, it was nearly visible even in the warmth of the Summer night. Despite the high temperature, they couldn't bear to be any farther apart than they were now, leaning their foreheads together and taking in each other's racing heart, boiling blood, trembling spirit. This was big time.

 

"Dean?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Does this mean we're... hooked up?" His laugh was delightful and Castiel felt the sheer joy of it through his entire being.

 

"Yeah," he said finally, still chuckling. "Yeah I'd say so."

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                 


End file.
